


Honestly, I'm Not Okay

by RestlessCancer



Series: Karkat: Engage in Matespritships [4]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anemic Karkat, Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Emotional, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Human Kanaya Maryam, Human Karkat Vantas, Humanstuck, Hurt/Comfort, Kanaya Maryam/Karkat Vantas Moirallegiance, Love, M/M, Multi, Other, Poor Karkat, Sad Karkat, Sick Character, Sick Karkat Vantas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-10-31 12:57:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10899813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RestlessCancer/pseuds/RestlessCancer
Summary: Karkat Vantas hasn't had the worst life, but it sucks pretty thoroughly to be an anemic fuck-up. Thankfully, John's there to help him through it all, even when Karkat acts like a jerk. To top it all off, Karkat starts to wonder what he really wants out of life and whether he has enough life left to obtain it.





	1. The First Night

John Egbert and Karkat Vantas are in their last year of college in Grinnell, Iowa, the place they currently call home. They live in the house that Karkat grew up in, a gift from his father. Months ago, Karkat helped his moirail, Kanaya Maryam conceive her second child, Danny, with her wife Rose Lalonde. After some coercing, Karkat and John agreed to babysit Danny while their oldest child, a little girl named Lily, is staying at a friend’s house. The Kanaya and Rose are going on their second honeymoon for their anniversary.

 

_ You are Karkat Vantas. You are 26 years old and you live with your boyfriend John. You were asked by your favorite and closest moirail, Kanaya, to babysit their little boy. _

 

You are sitting on the couch and watching My Best Friend’s Wedding for the thousandth time when you hear the doorbell ring. You open the door to find Kanaya carrying her 6 month old son, Danny, with Rose coming up the walkway behind her, carrying various items in her arms. You’re not surprised that Kanaya managed to shift the situation to her favor.

 

“Hello Karkat!” She smiles and hugs you with her free arm.

 

“Come in. Does Rose need help or something? She looks like she’s…” You can’t even comprehend how she’s managing, but she is.

 

Finally, she makes it into the house and sets everything down in the living room.

 

“Hello Karkat.” Rose smiles pleasantly. “You are going to behave while we’re gone, aren’t you? No swearing or wild house parties?”

 

“I hate those  _ ridiculous _ social functions with every fiber in my being.” You glare at Rose, knowing she’s testing you to see if you can handle not swearing, a habit that comes as easily as breathing. “Besides I know Kanaya would incinerate me if even an allusion to a cuss came out of my mouth.”

 

Kanaya is about five and a half feet tall, with a curvy but still thin frame and a Hispanic complexion with short, curly black hair, an interesting contrast to Rose’s almost five foot height, petite frame and pale blonde hair in a bob style.

 

“Kat! Why didn’t you tell me they arrived?” John comes in from the kitchen, he was in the bathroom just a minute ago.

 

“Well, We Don’t Plan To Stay Beyond A Couple More Minutes. We Just Want To Be Sure You Two Really Want To Do This.” Kanaya admits.

 

“It’s not a problem, Nana!” You assure her as she hands Danny to John.

 

She pulls you into what you both consider a proper hug. She embraces you for countless minutes, your arms wrapped around her and her fingers stroking and teasing your hair before she finally kisses the top of your head and you both let go of each other.

 

“Goodbye sweetheart!” Kanaya nuzzles Danny’s cheek, kisses yours and heads out the door.

 

Rose simply gives a quick and small courtesy before leaving.

 

Danny starts to fuss in John’s arms as you read the note Kanaya left for you. You realize that you really don’t know how you feel about kids, but you’re starting to feel like you’ll hate them before you love them.

 

“I’m going to get him a bottle, he’s probably just hungry.” John says and then rifles through the diaper bag Rose hauled in.

 

John gives Danny the bottle and it seems to lull him into contentment. You feel a little embarrassed that you hadn’t thought to do so first. You abscond back to your move, inviting John to join by patting the couch space next to you. You want to lie in his lap, but Danny is already there.

 

“What’s the matter Kat?” John asks as you pout a little while staring at the tv screen.

 

“I missed my favorite part…” You mutter, your olive complexion flushing as you look down at the remote on your thigh and back to the tv.

 

“Oh, sorry, Kat. I didn’t think they would come until it ended.”

 

“It’s fine.”

 

It hasn’t been long, but you already don’t like how your routine with John has changed. The movie ends and you feel more tired than normal. You suspect that your anemia is acting up again since your stomach feels pretty awful as well. You get up and drag yourself to the kitchen to get a glass of water and take your iron pill.

 

“Karkat, you didn’t forget to take it earlier did you? You know you already have problems with insomnia, the doctors said that aggravating your-”

 

“Can you just shut up? I know what’s wrong with me and I’m handling it, see?” You gesture dramatically to the water in one hand with the pill in the other before rolling your eyes and swallowing the pill with a sip of water.

 

You walk past John back into the living room. You proceed to haul all of the baby’s stuff up to the guest bedroom. You struggle with setting up the playpen, despite the simple directions. Finally after it’s up and determined to be sturdy, you walk into the bedroom you and John share there on the second floor. You slip out of your tee shirt and torn up jeans into a pair of plush Grinnell Tigers pajama pants and your favorite baggy track sweat shirt. You slip into bed, realizing that it’s only after 8, but you don’t care. You know it will be a long night.

 

John comes in quietly, not wanting to wake you, but you’re already awake because your insomnia is rampant tonight. You have watched the time change from 8 to 9:45, the time when John came in.

 

“Kat, baby, are you awake? John whispers softly as he carefully and slowly climbs into bed.

 

“Yeah…” You sigh sadly and he cuddles up to you, putting his arm over your waist. You grab his hand and hold it to your heart.

 

“Do you want me to sing for you?” John asks.

 

“Mmmhmm…” You reply, yawning as you release his hand and roll over, burying your face in his chest and wrapping your arm around his thin waist.

 

“What would you like me to sing?” He kisses your forehead, which is covered in a mess of chocolate brown waves that even Kanaya couldn’t tame.

 

“Kissing in Cars…” You murmur. It’s one of your favorite non-soundtrack songs. It’s almost sad-sounding, but you understand the message and that’s what’s important.

 

“As we wake up in your room, your face is the first thing I see. The first time I’ve seen love and the last I’ll ever need. You remind her that your future would be nothing with her. Never lose her, I’m afraid. Better think of something good to say, but it’s all been done more than once so I’ll keep on trying. Oh, god don’t let me be the only one who says, No at the top of our lungs says no, no such thing as too young. Second chances won’t leave me alone and there’s faith in love….” John pauses, assessing whether he can tell if he should continue or not.

 

You yawn and cuddle closer to him, breathing in the scent of lavender and shaving cream. Maybe he started using that fucking feminine shaving cream that is supposed to smell like lavender? Gogdammit, he better not have. That’s the only thing more absurd than fusing them as two separate things on one damned irresistible asshole, who you happen to love…

 

“Should I keep going?” John whispers as he nuzzles you.

 

“Uh-huh…” You yawn.

 

“She was always the one. I’ll repeat it again, the one, no such thing as too young. Red lights flashin’ a car we’re kissin’ in. Call me crazy, I’ve always tried to remind her, that the future’s just a few heart beats away from disaster. I’m afraid that I’ve thrown it all away. At the top of our lungs says no, no such thing as too young… When second chances won’t leave you alone and there’s faith in love. If you kiss me goodnight I’ll know everything is alright… Second chances won’t leave us alone and there’s faith in love…”

 

“One more…” You yawn sleepily, feeling it starting to work. “Vanilla Twilight.”

 

“Anything for you.” John tightens his grip a little and you hide your smile as your eyes close. 

 

“The stars lean down to kiss you and I lie awake and miss you. Pour me another cup of atmosphere. I’ll doze off safe and soundly, but I’ll miss your arms around me, I’d send a post card to you dear ‘cause I wish you were here…

 

“I’ll watch the night turn light blue, but it’s not the same without you because it takes two to whisper quietly. The silence isn’t so bad till I look at my hands and feel sad ‘cause the spaces between my fingers are right where yours fit perfectly. I’ll find repose in new ways, though I haven’t slept in two days as cold nostalgia chills me to the bone…. I’ll sleep on the front porch all night, waist deep in thought because when I think of you, I don’t feel so alone. I don’t feel so alone. I don’t feel so alone…

 

“As many times as I blink, I’ll think of you tonight. I’ll think of you tonight. As tired eyes get brighter and heavy wings grow light, beneath the sky I’ll feel alive again. And I’ll forget the world that I knew when I’m reunited with you. Oh if my voice could reach back through the past, I’d whisper in your ear, Karkat I’ll always be here…” John whispers the last lines into your ear as you fall asleep, only faintly aware of the kiss on your cheek.

 

_ Great. Crying. Screaming. Little Shit _ .  You think. This is what you are awakened by.

  
  


John is fast asleep and there is no use in trying to wake him up. You feel like crying yourself as you look at the clock and see that it has barely made it past midnight.

 

“Why, Kanaya?” You whine in a whisper as you roll out of bed and go into the guest bedroom to check on the little brat.

 

“What is your deal?” You ask as you lift Danny out of the playpen.

 

Then it practically hits you, the kid has soiled himself pretty thoroughly. You moan as you lie him down on the guest bed and change him. He quiets down as you dress him again and hold him to your chest. You lay him down in the playpen and he starts crying almost instantly. You moan again in frustration as you pick him up and try to feed him a bottle that he rejects.

 

“What do you want?” You whine.

 

He grabs a fistful of your sweatshirt in his hand and holds onto it tight. You remember groggily that Kanaya wrote that he doesn’t like to sleep alone sometimes. Now you really feel like crying because it has started storming outside, a condition that you are more afraid of than the baby is. 

You have problems with anxiety and this house is an ancient piece of shit.

 

You shakily walk back to the bedroom and lay Danny down on your side of the bed and proceed to curl up in a corner of the room with your back in the corner and your head between your knees. Thunder shakes the old house an hour later as lightning flashes again and you tremble. The baby managed to fall sleep, but you have no such hope.

 

Just as the storm seems to die down and you relax a bit around 2 am, thunder shakes the house horribly and you see the desk, and tv in its giant stand, shake like it might come down. You sob as you feel helpless and terrified of the storm. You have always had an intense fear of storms and abandonment. Your doctor suggested that your symptoms were likely a sign of a panic disorder, which could be set off by those very fears.

 

“Go away, go away, go away! No more! Please no more…” You mumble, wishing for an end to the panic and the storm that’s causing it.

 

It’s very dark and silent just before more lightning and thunder crash and light up the sky outside the window. You rock back and forth, crying on the floor in the corner as everything seems foreign to you. Suddenly John is awake and he notices you in your corner. He approaches you and you recoil, unable to recognize him because of the panic disorienting you.

 

“Kat, come here, it’s okay. It’s just me, just Jojo. Come here and let me give you a hug.” He reaches out to you and you cling to him, soon the familiar scent covering him brings you back a little.

 

“Where am I? What’s happening to me?” You ask, as you curl up in his lap. “What time is it?”

 

“Ssshhh, it’s alright, kat. You’re at home with me. You’re just a little shaken by the storm. It’s around 3 am, but you’re okay. It’s alright.” John reassures you. “Do you remember the rhyme your dad sang you? The one he sang for you when you were growing up?”

 

“Yeah…”

 

“Sing it for me, I don’t remember that well.” John encourages you as the thunder rumbles in the distance and light flashes through the window, rocking back and forth with you.

 

“Rock-a-bye KK, the storm will stop, when the wind blows it will be whisper soft. The sharp light it makes will soon come to stall and asleep will be KK, daddy and all.” You sing starting to feel better as the storms seems to have stopped.

 

“All better?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Let’s get into bed then, we shouldn’t leave the baby up there by himself.”

  
John tucks you in and then climbs in himself and as he re-sings your songs, you fall asleep again. This time, the sleep is much more restful. There are no dreams, at least none that you remember. All in all, it could've been better but you're just glad it didn't go any worse than it did. All you know is you'll need the rest for whatever fresh hell you're faced with tomorrow.


	2. Sickness and Sappy Serenades

Your alarm goes off, playing the song that John likes and frustrates you because of how true the lyrics are for you.

 

“ _ You are such a light sleeper; Count to ten and you're already out. We fall, we're in deeper, The night's gone as we open up our eyes. Such a light sleeper. Sleep, sleep little darling. I swear I'm not trying to wear you out; I'm not trying to drag you down… _ ”  Hawthorne Heights’ Light Sleeper blares out of the alarm clock and  John slams his hand down to try to stop the alarm before it wakes you, but you’re already up.

 

Luckily, the baby sleeps easier than you do so he’s still fast asleep as you open your eyes and stare sadly at the alarm clock, reading the time to be 5 am. You are curled up on your side of the bed with one arm under your pillow and the other around Danny, who is cuddled up to your chest. You watch John get ready for work. It’s summer and neither of you take the summer semester so that you can both work and have time to evaluate your progress on your plans.

 

“Jojo?” You whisper and he quietly quick-steps to your side.

 

“Hey, sorry, I had hoped it hadn’t woken you up.” John strokes the hair out your heavy eyes.

 

“I think I’m getting sick…” You say as you feel like your stomach is rising to your throat.

 

“What do you mean?” John looks worried.

 

You carefully get out of bed and shakily walk to the doorway and then run like hell down the stairs to the bathroom that separates the stairs from the kitchen. You hear John calling to you, asking what’s wrong, and hear his footsteps following you. You try not to slam the door as you close and lock it, but you fail in that respect. You drop to your knees and throw up in the toilet.

As you rinse your mouth out in the sink, you see the bottle of iron pills and you realize that you had forgotten to eat when you took the pill last night. You sigh as you realize the blunder you made. You know that you can’t go to work today at all today since your stomach will be messed up all day, especially since you have to take the second dose or face the consequences for neglecting it, which could be fatal at this point. Not that it matters since you took the day two weeks ago to make sure Danny would have someone looking after him all the time anyway. Besides, they usually schedule you for afternoon and evening shifts while John typically works mornings since the trucks typically come in early.

 

“Karkat, please unlock the door. I need to know you’re okay.” John says, his voice shaking with worry.

 

You obey and unlock the door. You wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his work polo. He wraps his arms around you as well.

 

“You forgot to eat didn’t you?” He asks and sighs as you nod. “Please be careful today and stay in bed or on the couch as much as you can, okay?”

 

“I will…” You murmur and then you both look up the stairs as you hear the baby crying. “Go to work, I’ll take care of him. We’ll watch movies and sleep through the day.”

 

“Alright, I’ll bring home some more saltines and bottled water, don’t eat or drink anything else today.”

 

John kisses you briefly on the lips, knowing you hadn’t gotten to brush your teeth after puking up your iron pill. He never cared about things like that, which is why you feel so comfortable with him, you can’t gross him out.

“Hurry back, okay? I don’t wanna be with the little shit by myself for too long…” You murmur, looking at your frail, but strong hands grasping the collar of his polo.

 

“Afraid you’ll actually be able to tolerate him?” John teases as he caresses your cheek.

 

“No! Go to work, Jojo!”

 

You shove him away after giving him an angry passion kiss. He smiles and leaves the bathroom. You hear the front door open and close and then the lock click. You head back upstairs and find the little brat lying on the bed and sniffling. You change him and get him a bottle. You make a quick run down stairs to grab an armful of bottled waters and a couple boxes of saltines, taking the bottle of iron pills with you as you head back up. You pop in Aladdin on the dvd player and lay back in bed with the baby lying on his back on your stomach.

 

After awhile you both fall asleep. You routinely wake up every now and then, changing Danny, feeding him, and settling your stomach with purified water and saltines, which are essentially salted hardtack. You re-start the movie one more time before you fall into a lengthier sleep. You are grateful for the rest, but it doesn’t last long since you had taken your iron pill with the crackers before dozing off. Your stomach lurches and you experience lockjaw. You lay the sleeping baby on the bed and dash down to the bathroom, puking all over the linoleum floor in the bathroom.

 

You didn’t quite make it to the toilet. You throw up once more, this time making it to the appropriate receptacle, and then rinse your mouth out, brushing your teeth afterward. You get to work cleaning up the mess you made when you hear the front door’s lock click. You peer around the corner at the clock on the stove, which reads 10 pm, and proceed to start putting away the cleaning supplies with shaky hands, slumping to the floor and leaning against the washer in your tiredness. You are so easily worn out once your anemia acts up and it pisses you off to no end because you feel weak pathetic and useless.

 

“Kit Kat! What are you doing on the floor? Are you okay?” John quickly sets down the grocery bags and dashes over to you.

 

“I got sick and then the cleaning shit fucked me up…” You mutter, feeling pathetic and loathing yourself for it.

 

“Let’s get you back to bed. How’s the baby?” John picks you up bridal-style and carries you to the bedroom.

  
  


“He’s fine, little shit slept through just about every gog damn thing.” You manage to get your swear in before there’s any danger of said little shit hearing it.

 

“So you were alright watching him on your own?”

 

“Yeah. I just kept putting him to sleep and he was fine with it.”

 

“Well, at least you had a good day in that respect.” He comforts you as he lays you down on the bed.

 

“I guess…”

 

“I’ve got a surprise for you, but I’m not sure whether you’ll enjoy it or not…”

 

“Son of a rainbow! Why would there be a surprise? I hate surprises…” You censor yourself and moan, realizing how lame it sounds, not to mention unnatural.

 

“Poor Kitty, you’re probably triple miserable now.” John sympathizes.

 

Right then, as if somehow Dave were channeling his ironic bullshit through the Rosemary baby, Danny wakes up and starts crying. You face palm and groan.

 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got him.” John takes the baby and goes into the guest room.

 

You hear him cooing to the baby and eventually he stops crying. You find yourself wondering what it was this time and then you mentally slap yourself for even caring. It’s not your kid. You roll over and watch the clock. Before you realize it, you’re asleep and you stay that way until John crawls into bed with the fussy baby. You look at the time on the clock; it’s been an hour since you fell asleep.

 

“Hey, Kat, he won’t stop fussing. What do you do when he gets like this?” John asks, his voice sounding tired.

 

You roll over and sigh, trying to think of what to do. You rub at your eyes and see Danny’s tiny hand grab yours. You pull your hand away and he starts fussing. You take him and lay him on his stomach on your chest. He calms down quickly and you stare at John, who’s smiling like the biggest fucking dumbass the world has ever seen.

  
  


“He really likes you Karkitty!” John gushes and you almost wonder if he’s about to turn into one of those nasty gelatinous bite sized fluid oozing gummies made by his arch nemesis, Betty Crocker. “It’s so cute and precious! I’m taking a picture!”

 

Before you fully process this slur of words and find the child-safe words to object with, John has already snapped about five shitty photos, the next few chronicle your growing rage.

 

“PUT THAT SATANIC PIECE OF JUNK AWAY!” You snap at him and he snaps a photo of you saying this.

 

“Oh, alright, for you, kitkat.”  John tries to say it lovingly, but you can tell he feels pretty dejected by your sudden outburst.

 

“Thanks…” You mumble and yawn. “I’m going to the doctor tomorrow…”

 

“What?”

 

“I said I’m going to the doctor tomorrow… I made the appointment last week.”

 

You had thrown up blood last week after taking your iron pill, even with food. You didn’t tell John because you didn’t want him to worry, but you had to tell him about the appointment.

 

“You didn’t tell me what the surprise is…” You change the subject before he can give his 20 questions routine to find out why you made your appointment.

 

You shift Danny as he starts choking a little bit on his spit and as you shift him to be cradled in your arms he spits up on you. You sigh in exasperation as John takes to trying to remove it from your sweatshirt with a damp rag.

 

“Kankri’s coming for awhile. He wants to help you out while you’re sick and stuck with the baby this week while I’m at work for our shifts.”

 

“Joy, the insufferable is coming. Dad couldn’t come instead?”

 

You are referring to Seth, who was called the Sufferer, sometimes Signless, since he was the one who started the movements for gay rights. Your dad endured a lot so that you could date within the same gender and sex. Meanwhile, your brother has always tried too hard to carry on your dad’s movement, which was how he was deemed the Insufferable.

 

“No, your dad is still recovering from that attack last month at the rally.” John informs you.  “Kankri isn’t all that bad and he does know a thing or two about kids since he had to babysit you.”

 

“Don’t remind me! The first time that moron babysat me, he tried dry me off in the actual dryer after giving me a bath because he couldn’t find my towel.” You roll your eyes and let out a huff of air in annoyance. “Newsflash, it was  _ in _ the dryer!”

 

“He did apologize for that though, like a million times.”

 

“Whatever. He just better not pull any of that with Danny.”

 

“It’ll be okay. You should get some rest. He’s coming pretty early. What time is your appointment?”

 

“It’s at 6:30 am. Can you give me a ride on the way to work? I really don’t want to have to sit through the appointment with the Insufferable.” You almost plead as you make this request.

 

“Of course, kitty!” He kisses you sweetly on the lips before situating Danny on the bed after noticing your discomfort and inability to continue holding him.

 

After the lights go out, you prepare for another sleepless night. You feel a bit guilty about having snapped at John earlier and you decide that you better let him know. You support yourself on one elbow and create a bridge over the baby, careful not to disturb him. John already has his glasses on the nightstand, warping the red numbers on the alarm clock. You rub your nose on his and kiss his cheek.

 

“I’m sorry for snapping earlier… I… love you…” You whisper and pull away, lying back down on your side facing the edge of the bed.

 

You feel a loose tear and damn it as it rolls down your cheek. You hate how you feel things so strongly, but your dad always reassured you that it could be a good thing. He told you from a very young age that it meant you had passion and could get things done like no one else could. You grimace thinking about how much your emotions, disease, and insecurities have scared people away. In fact, they have successfully scared off your matesprit, who could take a lot of bull shit, but yours was the most fucking exacerbated shittiest bull shit of them all. Now you have the runner up who will take all your bitching and then some. You sigh, realizing that you don’t deserve the love and caring that you get from everyone.

 

“I hear you breathing in, another day begins. The stars are falling out, my dreams are fading out, fading out. I’ve been keeping my eyes wide open. I’ve been keeping my eyes wide open. Ooh, your love is a symphony. All around me, running through me. Ooh, your love is a melody underneath me, running to me. Oh, your love is a song…” John sings barely above a whisper.

 

Just when you thought that asshole was asleep he goes and serenades you with Switchfoot’s “Your Love is a Song” to tell you that your apology is accepted. You try to scowl, but you really just want to cry because it seems like you’re the problem. You’re sick. You’re angry. You’re tired. You’re hurt. You, you, you. That’s not the way it’s supposed to be, but somehow that wonderful fuckass on the other side of the bed still puts up with you and your narcissistic bitchy bullshit.

 

“The dawn is fire bright against the city lights. The clouds are glowing now. The moon is blacking out, blacking out…” John sings and waits for you to do the call and response thing you two do to engage in revoltingly feels-breaking jackassery that some couples think is cute.

 

You happen to think that it’s cute without the e. A cut to your pride.

 

“So I’ve been keeping my mind wide open…” You respond.

 

“I’ve been keeping my mind wide open, yeah…”

 

“Ooh your love is a symphony all around me, running to me…” Your voice cracks a bit as you try to keep it in a whisper.

 

“Ooh, your love is a melody underneath me, and into me…”

 

“Oh, your love is a song…”

 

“Your love is a song…” John grabs your hand from its resting place on your thigh and entwines his fingers in yours as he sings.

 

“Oh, your love is a song…”

 

“Your love is strong…” He sings and squeezes your hand.

 

“With my eyes wide open…”

 

“I’ve got my eyes wide open.”

  
  


“I’ve been keeping my hopes unbroken…” Your voice cracks and the tears really race down your face, feeling guilty for all the things you did (or rather think you did) to drive your matesprit off.

 

“Ssshh, Karkitty, it’s alright… I don’t mind…” He kisses you goodnight and sings you one little piece of Secondhand Serenade's Vulerable. “Share with me the blankets that you’re wrapped in because it’s cold outside, it’s cold outside. Share with me the secret that you’ve kept in because it’s cold inside, cold inside. And your slowly shaking finger tips show that you’re scared like me so let’s pretend we’re alone. And I know you may be scared and I know we’re unprepared, but I don’t care…”

  
“Tell me, tell me, what makes you think that you are invincible? I can see it in your eyes that you’re so sure. Please don’t tell me that I’m the only one that’s vulnerable. Impossible…” You whisper before fading into the same dreams that leave you in the same state as always, guilt-ridden and depressed with no hope of changing.


End file.
